Wilting ۞ Sandor Clegane

Wilting ۞ Sandor Clegane

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Sierra_Laufeyson By Sierra_Laufeyson Updated Sep 25

"But he who dares not grasp the thorn 
  Should never crave the rose."
  ― Anne Brontë
  
  All men must die. All roses must wilt.

  There is a streak of wildness behind steel eyes. Two distinctly Stark features, yet they belong to Anya Whent. She may have been born a Southern lady, but it's the blood of the North that runs through her veins. A runaway at the tender age of ten, the girl was raised among Lord Rickard's children. Alongside Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen she trained, with Lyanna she learned. Behind a fair face are a kind heart, gentle soul, and a beast. A beast that takes a Hound to tame it. 

  A bat disguised as a wolf. A man disguised as a hound. He's not a knight and she's not a proper lady. The match was made by the gods, though neither can be bothered to pray to them any longer. Westeros's treachery has disillusioned the both of them and only with each other can they find themselves.

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